


Fathers Be Good to Your Daughters

by liss99



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Babies, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liss99/pseuds/liss99
Summary: Benedict Bridgerton really wanted a daughter. Perhaps his desire for a daughter was due to his three children, all sons. Nothing made him prouder than his sons, but he imagined what My Cottage would be like with a touch more femininity; plus, it had done him well having sisters, surely it would do his sons well.One-Shot about Benedict wanting a baby girl and failing miserably each time. Family fluff.
Relationships: Sophie Beckett/Benedict Bridgerton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 127





	Fathers Be Good to Your Daughters

**Author's Note:**

> I just had a cute idea about Benedict wanting a daughter and finally getting one after three sons. I didn't take the time to make sure things are historically accurate so things might be wrong but IDC, this is a cute family fic. Characters belong to Julia Quinn and the title comes from John Mayer's song "Daughters." Enjoy!

Benedict Bridgerton really wanted a daughter. There were no words to explain his wish for a baby girl, but something mystical possessed him at the thought of a daughter.

Maybe it was because he was surrounded by the women in his family. He had his brothers of course, but they were for fencing, drinking, and galivanting with. His four younger sisters and dutiful mother, however, brought Benedict great joy (and occasionally a headache or two). Tea-time and strolls through Hyde Park were not things he would admit to liking out-loud, but secretly, he much preferred the company of his sisters to that of his brothers, though he loved them all the same.

Or perhaps his desire for a daughter was due to his three children, all sons. Nothing made him prouder than his sons, but he imagined what My Cottage would be like with a touch more femininity; plus, it had done him well having sisters, surely it would do his sons well.

But his best explanation for wanting a daughter was his wife. He gathered a daughter would replicate her mother in nearly every way. Charles, Alexander, and William heavily favored their father’s features, all with soft-swept, jet black curls and tall height, even at their young ages of six, four, and two years old. Benedict was sure a daughter would come out looking like Sophie; dirty-blonde hair and fair skin. Oh, how he wanted a miniature version of his beloved wife.

There was just something inside Benedict that told him they could not stop until they had a daughter, or of course until Sophie no longer wanted to, or it was not safe for her. He wanted a daughter, but he would not risk losing his wife to have more children.

As Sophie’s pregnant stomach grew for the fourth time in their marriage, he couldn’t help but imagine a soft, darling daughter in just a few short months.

Sophie pregnant was perhaps the single greatest wonder of the world Benedict could imagine. The first time had been utter beauty. She told him of her pregnancy not long after they were married, which thrilled him, but he was also pleased she did not lose her _appetite_ as he knew some women did when with child. No, in fact, pregnancy made her ravenous.

He would never forget the day Charlie was born, on a beautiful May afternoon at My Cottage, less than a year after their marriage. Bringing Sophie pleasure as she got larger and larger was a minor challenge, but Benedict would always resolve to solve problems with his mouth. Sophie was moaning beneath him when all of a sudden he heard her scream, and not in the seductive way he was very used to.

“Benedict, stop!”

“What is it, what have I done wrong?” He immediately was concerned he had hurt her.

“Nothing, I believe the child has decided now is the time to make its entrance,” Sophie said with a smile. 

“Oh. Oh!” He realized quickly before scuttering around in a mad dash. “She’s coming!” Benedict was convinced early on that it would be a daughter and had referred to the child as “she” ever since.

He was shocked-but not disappointed- hours later when his son arrived. He of course wanted a son; he just imagined a baby girl through Sophie’s whole pregnancy. Sophie’s hand grasped his as she held Charlie in her other arm.

“We can have more children, you know?” She laughed. “I know you are in want of a daughter, Lord knows why, and I shall not wish to disappoint you.”

“Darling, any children we have will be loved by me regardless if they are a son or daughter,” he responded with a kiss to her temple. “I do enjoy seeing a product of our love bundled up in your arms, though, and would care to see it again.”

“As would I.”

“So, we will have a daughter someday, I am sure of it,” Benedict said with pride.

~

A little less than two years later, on a chilly April day, they found themselves in the same position, except this time they were in London visiting his mother. Violet insisted on a luncheon with Sophie, Benedict’s younger sister Daphne, and his brother’s wife Kate. She sent her sons and son-in-law off for the afternoon, claiming she just wanted her daughter, daughters-in-law, and seven grandchildren so as not to be disturbed by “masculine energy.” He had no idea what she meant by it, but he obliged, grateful to catch up with his brothers.

They were gone a mere 45 minutes until a messenger arrived at White’s with a letter, which was for him from his mother.

“Why is mother sending you a message if she wanted us out so much?” Anthony, Benedict’s elder brother inquired.

“Goddammit!” Benedict exclaimed as he read the letter. His things were quickly gathered, and he was gone before Simon and Anthony could even ask.

When he arrived back at his mother’s house (in record time, he would later claim), Daphne was waiting to usher him upstairs where Sophie was lying in bed with a baby in her arms.

“I’ve missed it? I was here but an hour ago and you were still pregnant…one hour!” Benedict vowed to be present whenever his wife gave birth, he wanted to be there for his children from the minute they were born.

“Oh, dearest, sometimes these things happen so quickly, there’s no use in being mad at yourself,” Violet told her son as he climbed into the bed next to Sophie. “We sat down for lunch shortly after you left and the next minute Sophie here was pushing.”

Sophie looked endearingly at her husband as he joined her and the new baby. Charlie was in the nursery with his cousins and aunts; Violet ensured there was space for her grandchildren in her home.

“My dear husband, I’d like you to meet Alexander, your son,” Sophie said with a smile, but tepidly. Again, Benedict was convinced the child would be a girl and she didn’t want to disappoint him with the news it was another son.

Benedict saw the look on her face and knew exactly what she was thinking. He gave her a soft, chaste kiss to ease her worries. Then, to his new son, a tender kiss on his forehead.

“Hello, Alexander. I am your father and I love you very much.” He was speaking to his son but looking directly at Sophie. Disappointed, he was not.

~

By the time Sophie’s third pregnancy came around, no one could tell Benedict that it was a boy. After two sons, it was bound to be a girl. That’s what happened to Anthony. He and Kate had two sons first, but their third child, born just the previous month in January had been a daughter. Benedict was sure the same would be the case for him and Sophie, two sons and then a daughter.

Shimmering snowflakes filled the February night sky as the fires heated My Cottage. Outside was peaceful, but inside was chaos. Charlie and Alex Bridgerton, at almost four and two years old, were fussy all day and wanted nothing more than their mother’s attention. For her part, Sophie did not feel well and resigned to spend much of the day in bed. Benedict was tasked with entertaining his sons and allowing her some respite. This pregnancy had been difficult for Sophie, for whatever reason. The midwife couldn’t explain it, and neither could Sophie or Benedict.

Everything was different for Sophie this time. She was sicker, had different cravings, her usual pregnancy libido was nonexistent after a couple of months, and she was crabby all of the time. This had both her and Benedict convinced the baby was a daughter. Why else would her pregnancy be so different this time compared to her pregnancies with her sons?

“Another son, I can’t say I was expecting it,” Benedict said that evening after Sophie had safely delivered a healthy baby. It turned out her pain that day was labor, it was just very long. Different from Charlie and Alex, both of whom were born quickly once labor had started, William, took his time entering the world. “Unexpected, but so very loved.”

He kissed his wife’s forehead and then gently grabbed her chin and tilted her face up towards him.

“Beloved, I am so happy with our sons,” he said softly. “I know I talk of a daughter, but all I really want are healthy children we love, and you.”

“Are you trying to tell me we shouldn’t have anymore?” Sophie asked mischievously. “I rather thought you liked the process of making children.”

“Oh, I do, and I do not intend to halt that process,” he laughed, kissing her. “I’m just saying, I will be perfectly happy with three sons and you, alive.”

“Benedict, this pregnancy was hard, but it was not unbearable, and I was not at any risk at any point. I was sick and tired, that’s how most ladies are when with child,” she stroked his face. “Besides, you’ve rather convinced me of wanting a daughter myself. With you and now three sons, I’m quite outnumbered, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so, my love,” he said. He would give her a daughter and he would enjoy it.

~

So, in his mother’s garden, when Sophie informed him of their fourth child, he absolutely knew this one would be a girl. His family informed him how wrong he was every other time, but this time he was sure.

He had never cried at the birth of his sons; he had been too excited to. But when the midwife handed Sophie their fourth baby and said, “Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Bridgerton, it’s a girl!” it was as if the skies were raining down onto his face. He couldn’t help but shower his daughter and his wife with kisses.

“Violet Sophia Bridgerton you will be the death of me,” he smile-cried into his daughter’s soft head.

“Violet Sophia?” his wife asked incredulously.

“We agreed on Violet, did we not?”

“We did, I don’t recall the discussion on Sophia, however,” Sophie retorted teasingly.

“Well surely my daughter should be named after the two most important women in my life, should she not?” he asked Sophie with a glimmer in his eyes.

“But of course, Mr. Bridgerton, that she should,” Sophie laughed as she sunk deeper into his chest. “Do me a favor will you? Promise you won’t spoil this girl into the sky. I’ll not have my daughter grow up to be a spoiled brat.”

“Whatever my princess asks for, she shall receive, my queen,” he said as he kissed her cheek.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she smiled.

“You can take that however you like, my dear.” They were about to kiss as they heard pitter-patters come down the hall. Their sons escaped their nursemaid and made their way into their parents' chambers.

“Papa, can we meet our brother?” Asked six-year-old Charlie, leading his younger brothers into the room.

Benedict rose from the bed and lifted each of his sons one by one onto the bed as he said, “Well, unfortunately, my sons, a brother she is not. Boys, meet your sister, Violet.”

At that, two-year-old Will started crying. His brothers told him how much fun it would be to have a younger brother and he was positively disgusted at having a younger _sister_ , but he quickly calmed down after some cajoling from his mother. The boys came around to the idea of a sister after witnessing her adorable coos and tiny hands. They even fought over who would be the best big brother to little Violet.

Sophie and Benedict didn’t have it in them to shoo the boys into their rooms for bed, and instead, let their little ones fall asleep scattered across their large bed. With his sons tucked around him sound asleep, Benedict put his arm around his wife and brushed his daughter’s cheek with his index finger.

“Well Mr. Bridgerton, it seems you may have some competition in pursuit of your daughter’s affections,” Sophie said as she nodded towards their sons.

“I feel I will prevail, Mrs. Bridgerton, for a father’s devotion is one of the most deserved rights of a girl,” he said in a whisper, silently acknowledging that he would be everything for their daughter Sophie’s father had not been for her.

“That it is,” she responded softly. “I do believe my heart has never been fuller.”

“Nor mine, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

~

Violet Bridgerton, the youngest child and only daughter of Benedict and Sophie Bridgerton would find herself spoiled beyond measure by her father, protected fiercely by her brothers, and lovingly doted on by her mother throughout her life.

When it came time for her marriage, her mother was excited to give her the wedding she had always wanted. Her brothers ensured her betrothed knew the consequences of misplaying with her heart.

But her father, he was a blubbering mess. She knew he was taking the marriage of his baby girl hard. The night before her wedding, she found him in his study. She joined him on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Violet, dear, have I been a good father?”

“The very best.”

**Author's Note:**

> The final lines come from one of my favorite shows, "Parenthood." Let me know what you think, fav if you liked it, I appreciate the support!


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